Laying Next to You
by Khordealis
Summary: In moments like this, when I can study his stunning face and body in the glowing light of the dawn, I feel truly happy. I have him, and I cannot ever ask for more. He is my sun and moon, the air in my lungs and the beat of my heart. Revised and reloaded!


**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach or the characters. This fic is written solely for entertainment for my fellow fans.

**Warning:** Contains descriptions of violence and sexual themes – male/male. No like? No read!

**Rating: M**

**xXx xXx xXx**

It baffles me that you find it so unfathomable that I am capable of feeling and expressing love for another person. And it seems so incomprehensible to you that I love a man like him. That it was somehow impossible for any affection to have grown between us. I wish to make it clear that you are wrong. And since I am aware that you might still not trust my words, I shall give you our story.

He is sleeping next to me now. The golden light of dawn gives a golden tint to his marvellous but scarred skin, and the patterns – that I receive so much joy from tracing with my fingers both by day and when he is asleep in my arms – seems to grow a deeper black. That blood red hair of his is spread out like a fan behind him, apart from a few strands of it that has placed themselves over his eyes. Those beautiful crimson eyes, that always seem to be burning within and reflecting the fire of his essence. One of his hands, strong enough to crush mine in his firm grip but yet capable of such gentleness, is hidden under the pillows, and the other is resting in front of his face. It makes him look vulnerable, boyish somehow. His face is so serene when he is at rest, when none of his worries, none of his boisterous attitude is there to mark it. It fascinates me, how he can be both hard as stone, a walking fire, and still have a frailty to him that makes me wish to keep him close at all times. His scent is calming. That slight hint of sandalwood, cinnamon and some flower I cannot identify despite my attempts to do so. I did once, before we became what we are now, go around my gardens and smell each flower to find the one that has the same scent as him. It eluded me.

One would easily picture him as a restless, loud sleeper. So did I at first. But once asleep, he moves only once or twice during the night, and you can just barely hear his breathing. It worried me many nights in the beginning – to the degree that I had to place my hand on his chest to feel it rise and sink. Such contrast to him in his waken state. He is impossible to ignore, with his loud speech, overconfident laughter and forceful way of moving. It appears sometimes that subtlety is unknown to him. And still he has managed, upon several occasions, to conceal his very presence to the degree of him actually catching me off guard. It would appear that he does those things as a reminder to me that there is always more to him than meets the eye. To believe him to be only a dumb, loud, cocky, straight forward and sometimes lazy troublemaker, is to be sadly mistaken. As I know from experience.

During the first time I had him under my command, I saw only a stray dog – chasing the moon. I saw his rashness, lack of class, his sometimes very inappropriate language and tendencies to arguments and fights. He was in all areas a Rukongai brat, and I could not understand how he had grown up with Rukia and still not have any of her class. Rukia could easily have been born in my clan. She has a grace and elegance to her that immediately marks her as nobility. He had none of that. What forced me to look deeper into him was the incident when I almost killed my own sister. He knew it was wrong, and he went as far as to draw his sword at me to protect her. He unleashed the bankai he had strived to achieve only to beat me, in order to protect the woman whom he considered his family. That demands a lot of courage, and I had not seen that kind – that strength – of it in him before. Though I did not admit it, and even disapproved of the action, I came to grow a deep respect for his determination and will to sacrifice anything to keep his loved ones safe.

It was difficult for a long time after that, to find a new ground to stand on in our relationship. He was burying himself in shame and self loathing over his action. I could almost see the emotions battle out beneath his rakish smile. He knew he had done the right thing, but still committed such a sin. It was painful to see. And it was painful for me to know that I nearly ended his life to withhold a law that had no justification, and nearly made me slay my sister. Even now, after such long time, I despise myself when I look upon his tanned skin and know that a great number of his scars were caused by Senbonzakura – wielded by my hands. And it was painful as well to see that ever present loneliness in him become more evident. Not only had I deemed him a beast and always unworthy of being equal to me, he had deemed himself as such too. He had always been seeking a pack, a family to belong to, and he still had none. I had stolen his family from him, the part of it that death had not already claimed. It is still strange to me how it took so long for me to see that depth in him – that ever searing pain of loneliness.

I cannot recall when I first started to feel things for him, but as they grew they became impossible to ignore. It was a constant distraction to me. I am the head of the Kuchiki clan, I am nobility – slave under my duties and propriety. For me to openly admit to have romantic, as well as erotic, feelings for my subordinate, was very inappropriate. The fact that he is a man has never been an issue, since it is quite common in Soul Society for persons of the same gender to be involved in romantic relationships with one another. No, what was so forbidden was that he originated from Inuzuri – and that he was my immediate subordinate. It was considered disgraceful to my name. And so I denied my feelings for a long time. I buried them deep within and focused solely on my duties and my work. Love had no place in my life. And I was quite convinced that he loved my sister. He did, but not in the way I thought. I know he was frustrated and hurt by my suddenly even colder person, but I could not act in any other way without revealing my feelings. Propriety, yet again.

He kept striving to be the best fukutaicho I could ever ask for, despite him being what he so colourful described himself to be; "a no good, fucking screw up Inuzuri brat, who can't even make the bloody kido work, and who drew a sword at his taicho." He is a good leader, and a fierce fighter. I was, I am, proud of him and his constant seek of perfection. It was only a few years after the battle against that vile traitor Aizen Sousoke that I allowed anyone to see how I felt about him. My heart still aches at the memory of that day. He had been sent to the Living World to investigate a strange reiatsu appearance, along with Kurosaki Ichigo, the substitute shinigami with the complete lack of politeness or sense of propriety. Something went horribly wrong.

I was standing in the disgusting place known as the twelfth division's headquarters, along with Kurosutchi-taicho, Kyoraku-taicho and Ukitake-taicho – watching the monitors and keeping track on my fukutaicho's reiatsu. I had really no difficulties feeling it. The force of it would surely allow me to feel it even if he was across the universe from me. Everything went wrong when a group of arrancar type hollows appeared and attacked the two men. He requested limit release while fighting them off, but it came too late. We saw on the screen how he was caught in the grasp of one of the vile beings and a claw buried itself in his gut. He kept fighting at the best of his ability, but he was losing a lot of blood and he could not summon enough power to attempt a kido to release himself. The young Kurosaki was already down, but he refused to give up. He refused to let a hollow get the better of him. And, summoning his last bit of strength, he killed it, but then fell to the ground.

It was a terrifying moment for me to stand there and see his life literally flood out of him. A rescue squad retrieved him, and he was put under the care of the fourth division's taicho. But even Unohana-taicho was uncertain of his chances of pulling through. He was fighting, that she knew. But the wound was very severe, and the filthy claw had caused it to become infected. Seeing him laying in a hospital bed – unconscious and burning up with fever made me feel helpless in a way I have only experienced once before, when my wife died. The mere thought that he might not survive the infection, that he could die, was almost unbearable. And I found myself caught in a battle between my obligations towards my house and my division – and my feelings for him. I wanted nothing more than to remain by his side day and night until he was well again, but I knew I could not. Too many other duties demanded my attention, or so I told myself. Burying myself in work and the various things regarding my family helped me keep my stressed mind occupied.

And so I remained cold, and was thereby subjected to my fellow taichos' anger. They all scolded me for not caring about my faithful fukutaicho when he needed me to be there – like they would have done to theirs without hesitation. But the anger that hurt me the most was the one that radiated from Rukia. I am aware that people do not believe me to care about her, but it is quite the contrary. I love her, and she is very precious to me – and so to feel her reiatsu spiking with anger whenever I was near her, caused me great pain. She said nothing, though it might have been easier if she had.

It was Unohana-taicho who brought me to my senses again. She came to my mansion one night, saying that she had something important to discuss. When we sat down in my study, where I was currently finishing a written request for something petty – perhaps new koi for my pond – she addressed the subject with a directness I was not prepared for. She asked me why I was being so disrespectful to him. He had been struggling to survive for eight days that night, and I had only come to see him once. She told me that it was disgraceful, and that I should be ashamed of myself for being so heartless. She kept scolding me for a good while, and I found myself unable to defend my actions. This harshness in her was something I had never experienced before. And finally, my self discipline broke. How it was possible, I still do not know – but strange things are known to happen in the presence of Unohana Retsu. Before I could even react, I was telling her of my feelings, and my fears, and the battle between love and duty that was severing my mind. She listened to me, and sighed. She said she did not know if he was a man that was open to a relationship with another man, but that I should tell him none the less. The cold façade I kept up was damaging our relationship as colleagues as well as the potential of a good friendship. Even if he did not answer my feelings, it would help if it was all out in the open.

But I could not bring myself to do it. For the first time in my life I chose the cowardly path, and I sickened myself. A Kuchiki never backed down from what he must do, and yet I stayed well away from all things connected to my chaotic swirl of emotions. I came to see him a few times, and I was there when he regained consciousness. I felt relieved and happy upon seeing the crimson eyes open and look around the room. After that, his recovery was quick. I cannot recall a single time he has needed a long time to regain his health. Within a month, he was back on duty – determined to show me and Unohana-taicho that he was in perfect condition. He despises being seen as weak and in need of pity. That is the Rukongai side of him speaking, I would guess.

But he was somehow different when he came back; there was something with him that was new. He worked hard, almost too hard. The paperwork actually got finished on time, and he trained the new recruits as well as the other division members to the point of complete exhaustion. Our division's reputation was better than ever, and he made sure to keep it at that level – especially as our fifth seat won in an allegedly nasty fight with a few eleventh division members. I did not know how much these pointless fights mattered to the status of a division until he explained it to me. But he stayed away from my immediate presence if he could. It pained me and I found myself wanting his obnoxious side back in the office. The feeling was strange to me. I am a man who desires peace and quiet when doing my work, a man who hates being disturbed when in the middle of something. But I found myself missing the noise and the irritation of his presence. I was beginning to wonder if Unohana-taicho had revealed to him my feelings, and that he was disgusted of me now.

But then came a training session. I decided to train with him alone – as we had done many many times in the past. It was, after all, part of our duty. It was late afternoon, I recall, and our subordinates had long since cleared the training grounds for the day. For a long time it unfolded as it always did; I met his aggression with calm, his force with speed and his growling curses with silence. I said only the necessary things. Such as telling him to concentrate, and keep his reiatsu on a leash. When he releases it, the reiatsu is very powerful, actually even taicho-level. Lower ranking shinigami has on several occasions fainted when hit by it. He can keep it in control as long as he is calm – but when agitated, it explodes around him like a raging fire. The colour of it is bright scarlet, very fitting of his person indeed.

All went well until I accidentally tore a long shred from his kosode, revealing a part of his tribal patterns. It distracted me greatly, since I found it hard to take my eyes off it. The pattern was nothing new to me, I had seen them before. But now, it was different. My mouth went very dry, and my heart was racing in my chest. I must have been staring, for he coughed slightly and asked me if something was wrong. I instinctively reacted by a surprise attack to hide my embarrassment over being caught staring at my subordinate. He was unprepared for the force of it, and tripped. In an instinctive reaction he reached out to grab something in order to maintain balance, and caught hold of my own kosode – causing me to fall forward. I landed ungracefully on top of his chest, knocking the air out of both his and my lungs. It is difficult to move after such hit, and so we had to remain where we were for a moment while trying to regain our breathing ability. It was however, not a pleasant situation for me. He radiated such heat, scorching but soothing – and that scent made my head spin to such degree that I almost felt intoxicated. His heart beat against mine and I felt his chest heave as he tried hard to make his lungs operate, as well as trying to block out the pain I knew he felt from the not fully healed wound. He stuttered an apology for being rude and grabbing my kosode when he should have just let himself fall. It must feel embarrassing for a man like me to be used as a handle by his subordinate.

I found myself unable to answer him. I was lost in those deep crimson pools that were his eyes. The setting sun reflected in them, making them burn like twin flames. My restraint failed me, and I found myself leaning in and placing a kiss on his lips. I remember being slightly surprised by their softness. He tasted of green tea and sakura, no doubts the remaining traces of our afternoon tea. Though I knew he never enjoyed green teas as much as myself, he always drank it with me. He actually prepared it for me as well – as part of his duty. I felt him tense at the contact for a moment, and then, to my enormous surprise, he answered it. I could feel the imbalance in his reiatsu, how uncertain he was about this. I can fully understand him. This was not in any way permitted, and he seemed to fear punishment for the rash action. So with a final light kiss, to assure him that no punishment was to come, I removed myself from him. He quickly got on his feet and shunpoed away. His reiatsu was in an uproar, and I knew he had a hard time remaining in control of it. I was in a state of conflict with myself. Had I done him wrong? Had he answered it out of obligation? Had I by my action ruined all chances of a good friendship and a strong bond between superior and subordinate? I did not know. I could not find an answer to any of those questions. I knew only one thing, and that was that I loved him. The touch of our lips made my feelings clear beyond any ability to cover them up again. I loved him. But what would happen now? He had the right to accuse me of sexual harassments and request immediate transfer. It would not be denied him, I knew that. Those matters were always looked upon very seriously, and even if there was doubts as to the truth of the accusations, the shinigami in question would always be transferred anyway – as a precaution. Though, I found it unlikely that he would do such a thing. He lived for the sixth division, and he would never have destroyed his own reputation by admitting to being pinned to the ground and forced to be kissed by his ice cold taicho.

But his lips had lit a fire within me. My whole body burned and ached with need for him. Not only for his body, but for his heart as well. I needed to feel his strong reiatsu envelop me and sooth me in a way only he had ever been able to. I doubt that he was even aware of doing it, but sometimes when I felt tired and upset about things his reiatsu would somehow seek out mine and wrap itself like a blanket around me. The fire turned in to comforting warmth, and I would feel calm. That night, in the solitude of my bedchamber, I did something to myself I had not done in many, many years. The need became suddenly too strong and I needed desperately to let it out somehow. The action of making myself release to a mental image of him should have made me feel guilty, but it did not. It made me feel empty and lonely, yes, but not guilty. I knew I should be ashamed of myself for these thoughts and actions, but suddenly it felt so impossible. I had this urge to throw propriety out the window and never look back, but I could not do that.

The following day he was off duty, on personal request. I had deliberated with myself during the night about the proper course of action, and was still uncertain of what to do. On a whim, I searched out the beacon that was his reiatsu, and found it heading out of Sereitei. Curiosity caught hold of me, though I knew that he usually just went to a Rukongai bar along with Madarame Ikkaku and Hisagi Shuuhei. I decided to follow him upon sensing a sadness flickering through the flaming pressure. I found it strange that he refrained from using shunpo and walked slowly through district after district in Rukongai, until he reached Inuzuri. He was wearing a black yukata with a dark red floral pattern falling from the shoulders and becoming scarcer down towards the hem. The obi was a matching red, and he looked both casual and formal where he confidently walked the streets where he grew up. People moved out of his way, no doubt intimidated by the flow of reiatsu around him. I hid my own reiatsu as much as I possibly could and followed him – trying to keep my face motionless as I witnessed the inhabitants struggle for their mere survival. A world so far away from my own. I was greatly confused when he left the streets and headed for a wooded hill on the outskirts of the small town. I followed him perhaps twenty feet behind, in order not to disturb him with my presence. He reached a shelf, on the edge of which three grave heaps were erected. He knelt in front of them and was quiet for a long time before he spoke. And I remember his words so clearly that I will recite every word that followed. He let out a sigh and looked at the heaps in turn.

"Hey, guys," he said. "'ts been a while since I've been 'ere. I've been kinda busy, an' I haven't even had time f'r myself lately. But I woulda come 'ere t'day even if I was dyin'. 'ts yer death day t'day, an' I promised I wouldn't forget ya. I'm still fukutaicho with the sixth, an' I guess 'ts workin' out ok. I haven't been screwin' up too much lately anyway. T's weird though, ya kno', comin' 'ere nowadays. People are backin' away from me. Some o' 'em are people who used to beat us up when we stole their water 'n stuff. Kinda strange. Anyway, Rukia couldn't be 'ere t'day. She's away t' the Livin' World for a while. Great news, though. She's fallen in love. An' the kid actually knows t' take care o' her. An' I know ya always thought I would chase after her, but sorry guys, girls don't do it f'r me, an' I got me eyes on someone already. Aint a chance in hell it'll work out, but I still kinda hope, ya know. I dunno if ya would even recognize me now, tho'. I aint scrawny anymore, and I got a shitload of marks on me body. They aint tattoos, but they keep showin' me that I am getting' better an' stronger. Wish ya could meet Zabimaru. He's a good companion t' me, and I can endure him puttin' these marks on me, 'cause I know they mean I'm gettin' somewhere. That I aint worthless. It aint the same without ya guys tho'. Rukia thinks so too. She misses ya probably more than I do, an' she's sorry she couldn't be 'ere t'day. Well, I gotta be off now. I promised Hisagi I'd go for a drink with him later. He's got some kinda love problem again, an' I dunno how the hell I was picked t' be his supporter. Kira woulda been a better choice. But, no. The moron had t' go pick me f'r it. Stupid fucker. I haven't forgotten ya, an' never will. Ya're my family, and I know it's pathetic t' be talkin' t' ya graves, but 'ts the only choice I have. Gomen'nasai for not bein' able t' keep ya alive, but I hope ya're somewhere in the Livin' World an' havin' a damn good time."

I was a bit taken aback by his softness as he spoke to his long since dead friends. His pain felt heavy in the air, and I could understand as much as that he had been hiding it inside ever since the three people buried here died. His family. He was the only remaining part of the pack of strays. Rukia, I sensed, had never been to them a stray. He stood up and suddenly he was looking me in the eyes, crimson gaze piercing through me.

"It's not polite to follow people, Taicho," he said. I was strangely confused at how he could slip from that broad street accent of his, to the speech he normally used around people in Sereitei. "What are you doing here?"

"I do not know," I answered him truthfully. He was obviously not amused by my presence at his, perhaps most holy, place of remembrance. "I am sorry for interfering in your private mourning." He merely snorted at that.

"The Taicho saying he doesn't know why he does something is not really believable. Why did you follow me, Kuchiki-taicho? I have felt you since I left Sereitei." I was shocked. I thought I had concealed my reiatsu enough for him not being able to detect it. Once again, I had underestimated him. I stood there, lost for any logical answers for a long time. His gaze never left my face, and it was unusually empty of emotions. I finally found an answer to his question. Not perhaps the appropriate one, but the honest one.

"I wished to see you," I said. "I did you wrong yesterday, and I mean to apologize for my actions." And his comment to it almost threw me off my feet.

"You did nothing to me that I didn't approve of, Taicho. I wished for it, but I was just not prepared for it to happen like that, you know. You just be glad it didn't go any further." He approached me and slowly walked past me, reiatsu still not entirely balanced. I do not know why I did what I did after that. All I know is that I needed it. I reached out and stopped him, by placing myself in front of him, with a hand on his chest. Even through the thick fabric his immense body heat felt almost scorching, and I once again struggled to breathe. Suddenly I felt insecure, even shy. My cheeks heated, and I have no doubts in my mind that I was blushing. I managed to meet those crimson fires, and ask the question nagging at my mind.

"I you approved of it, Abarai, I wish to do it again. Would you let me?" I shocked myself, indeed, with that sentence. It was highly improper and very disrespectful to both him and the place we were standing in. For a long time he just looked at me, face uncharacteristically unreadable. Then he nodded, but removed my hand from his chest.

"Not here," he said. "I need this place to be free of people." I nodded slightly in respect for his wish, and we simultaneously shunpoed out of Inuzuri. We landed on the terrace outside his private room. I realized I had never been in it. All the years I had had him under my command, I had not once ventured into his rooms. I will admit to expecting utter chaos, seeing that he did not strike me as a fan of order. I knew he expected me to go in, and I understood perfectly well the reason for that. Someone could pass by at any moment and see us exchange the kiss I hoped would now come. It must not happen. He casually opened the sliding door and stepped in. His home was simple. In the main room, the only room, for that matter, there was only a futon, a small desk with a few notebooks and worn out brushes scattered over the jagged surface. Next to it, a small bookshelf. Cushions to sit on were stacked in a corner, and next to the futon was a rack, where Zabimaru was gently placed. It too was in a simple design, and I was intrigued by all the notches and scratches in the dark wood. As I looked around, I realized that there were notches and scratches even on the walls, ceiling and floor. What had caused them? I could feel his reiatsu imprinted in the very structure of this room, and I sensed another presence – coming from the sheathed sword. He walked up to it and stroked the hilt.

"I'm back, Zabimaru, like I said I would." He was quiet for a moment as his zanpaktou spoke to him. "He's here as my guest. Don't worry." I could almost feel a cautious growl in the air and he chuckled. "Chill out, Zabimaru. I'll go train with you tomorrow." The potent and fiery presence faded somewhat, however, it did not disappear. It lingered at the edges of my senses. He looked at me with a slight look of apology. "Sorry about that, taicho," he said. "Zabimaru isn't that fond of people coming in here. This is his territory, and he make sure to keep it that way."

"What are these markings?" I could not stop myself from asking.

"Ah, just some traces of us communicating. Zabimaru aint really that gentle." I was overwhelmed by his appearance, where he stood in the formal yukata, in the room bearing signs of violent fighting and a threatening air coming from the sword resting behind him. That rich scent of him filled the room, and I felt slightly intoxicated by it. Unable to restrain myself further, I walked up to him and caressed his cheek. The air suddenly felt like it had thorns, and I could feel a new growl. He sighed and became distant for a moment, before meeting my gaze again. There was permission in it and I reached up slightly and placed a new kiss on his lips as I placed my arms around his waist. It grew deeper quickly, as his heat and fire started leaking into me. His hands buried themselves in my hair, gentle and affectionate. We kissed for what felt like a lifetime – and I experienced a bliss that was alien to me. It was broken off, however, when he suddenly pulled back and hissed – a hand pressed against the side of his stomach. He fell to his knees, cursing through clenched teeth. It scared me, and I knelt beside him, reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder. The threat in the air grew, and the reiatsu of Zabimaru became sharp as splintered glass once again.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Renji, what's happening to you?" He did not answer me. Instead he turned his attention to the zanpaktou, and grabbed it.

"Cut it the fuck out!" he growled. "It aint the time now, you jealous fucker!" I saw the sword starting to glow a menacing red, and suddenly I was faced with the materialization of Zabimaru. The baboon king looked at me with burning yellow eyes, and the snake it had as a tail hissed. It's voice shook me to the core when I heard it speak.

"_This is the being that ridiculed you, master,_" it said in a deep voice. "_The one that always underestimated us. The one that hurt you. We will not allow you to involve with such being._" The last sentence was uttered with determination and command, making him collapse on the floor, writhing in pain.

"Zabimaru," he hissed. "Stop it!"

"_You bear my markings. You belong to me._" Renji somehow got back on his knees and looked the large ape in the eyes, flowing his reiatsu over it.

"I am the master, Zabimaru_,_" he growled. "I do belong to you, but you also belong to me! Don't you fucking dare to mark me out of some bullshit territorial reasons." A new pain seemed to rattle his body, and he folded somewhat. "Zabimaru! You will obey me! You will stick to the agreement made. You mark my skin upon achievements, nothing more. If I wish to involve with him it is my right to do so. I have forgiven his acts. You have to do too." The snake moved closer to his hard-set face.

"_Ya need to realize we're doin it for ya best, boss,_" it said. "_That being is too damn acock for ya. And his Senbonzakura is an arrogant bugger. He sez we aint no good. Just cuz we can't make pink rain like 'im._"

"It doesn't fucking matter, Snakey! Stop it!" The baboon moved closer to him, until their faces was just inches apart. It sniffed the air around it's master, seemingly trying to decide on something.

"_So you insist on involving with the being?_" it asked.

"I do."

"_We can allow it on one condition._"

"It aint your place to give me conditions! Agh! Stop it you bastard!"

"_The condition is that we are allowed to mark him as well. We cannot allow you to be close and then thrown aside like a rag. If he is marked too, he will not be able to do so easily_."

"Hell fucking no!" Renji more or less went nose to nose with the large beast looming over him. "Get back in your blade you fucking monkey! I won't allow you to make threats against me or my taicho!" the baboon looked back at him, silent. I could feel the force of their clashing reiatsus, but was greatly startled when the large spirit turned to face me. It came straight up to me and sniffed the air around me – the snake making an inspection as well. I realized that I had indeed miscalculated the strength in Zabimaru.

"_We shall mark you too, wielder of Senbonzakura. We shall however give our master a relief in the matter. Your markings will not appear instantly as they do on him. They shall develop over time, and before they have turned black, you will have the chance to leave the master. But once black, you are one with him. One with us._"

"Damn you, Zabimaru!" Renji growled behind the massive figure of his zanpaktou's spirit. He managed to get on his feet, and placed himself between me and the baboon king. "If you leave one fucking mark on him, there will be freaking hell to pay!"

"_Why do you insist on defending the being, master?_" the spirit asked. "_Your mind is closed to us. Do you not trust us any more?_" Renji answered it by releasing his reiatsu straight in the face of the giant ape, forcing it backwards – making it cower. I could feel the answer in it. I could feel passion, heat, need and, to my great joy; love. His voice was almost tired as he spoke.

"I trust you, Zabimaru," he said. "And I would go through hell for you. You should know that by now. You are a part of my soul and I love you. But I love him as well, and there is nothing I, or you, can do about it."

"_We trust you, master. We do not trust the being._" I found that I had to say something. Though, I have to admit, the materialization of Zabimaru frightened me to a degree. But I had to do something to aid Renji. If I did what I wished to do with it's master, it would mark me. There was not a single doubt about that. But, to my own enormous surprise, I realized that I had little against it.

"I accept your terms, Zabimaru," I said, as calmly as I could manage at that point. Renji stared at me in utter terror. "If I need to be marked to gain your trust, then so be it." both spirit and man looked at me for a long while. Then I felt his reiatsu grow strong again as he looked at the baboon with the snake tail. The ape looked back at him, and then uttered two questions.

"_Do you give us permission, master? Are we allowed to mark the being?_" Renji straightened his back and nodded.

"He has agreed on the terms," he said. "I have no choice but to allow it. But I will ask this of you; do not make it painful. I can take the pain you inflict on me, but I don't want him to feel it."

"_We shall do as you wish_," the spirit said. "_You are the master, and we are happy to be by your side._"

"Then go back into the blade. I will let you out with me again soon."

"_Bu-bye, master!_" the snake said as they slowly vanished back into the sword. As soon as they were gone, my fukutaicho collapsed on the floor, still pressing his hand to his stomach. He laid there, panting and hissing – hair disheveled and a sheen of sweat covering his skin. That was the first time I had seen him and Zabimaru battle, and I still feel slightly intimidated by the being hidden in his sword. I took him in my arms and placed a hand on his forehead, finding that it was scorching hot, even by his measurements. I touched one of the patterns and burned my finger on it.

"Renji," I said. "Are you feeling alright now?" he shook his head.

"Sorry, taicho, I'm gonna need to rest for a while. The shit hurts like a damned bitch." He managed to move himself to his futon, but there he could do nothing but lay on his back, panting and hissing still. I sat down next to him, and started to loosen his clothes. He looked questioningly at me.

"I need to see what damage it has done to you," I said. I managed to remove the thick fabric and the light white robe he wore under it enough to have free view of his muscular chest and abdomen. I found several viciously red marks appear on the skin, looking like they were consisting of something like lava, as they spread over his body. And slowly, the black started to creep down in them, and they became one with the rest of his markings. He remained tensed and sweating until the very last tip had been filled with the concentrated black colour. Then with a slow exhale, he sunk into his mattress and rubbed his forehead with a shaking hand.

"Gomen'nasai for making you watch that, taicho," he said. "Zabimaru doesn't trust people. You least of all."

"Do you often battle like this?" I asked, unsure that I wanted an answer. He nodded.

"The worst battles were when he first came to me, and when I achieved my bankai. I collapsed and was out of it for two days after I had got him to submit to me. To him it's all about strength." He looked exhausted, and when I touched his skin I felt that he was scorching hot, and the healing wound in his abdomen looked very irritated. Ignoring his protests, I took him to my house and put him in my bed. It is still unclear if he remembers anything from the days that followed. He drifted in and out of sleep, burning with what felt like fever but might not have been. I told our division that Abarai-fukutaicho was on sick leave again, after having strained his healing wound too much during training – and that he was to be left alone until he was better. My subordinates knew, probably better than me, how easily angered he was when he was in pain – and so I had no trouble fooling them with my story.

I felt guilt for putting him through the pain of the markings just to be with him. But I also felt strangely proud that he would take it for me. My servants were forbidden to go near my bed chamber so they would not disturb the sick man when he needed absolute rest. I am quite sure that they knew of my feelings for him, but they are all both respectful and discrete. After four days in torment, he came to. It was late evening, and I had returned from the division's office for the night. I had changed into my sleeping robe and was ju removing my kenseiken when I saw in the mirror how he moved and then sat up – looking slightly disorientated. Then his gaze was fixed upon me. I do not think you can comprehend just how piercing his eyes can be. I managed to untangle the last piece, and went to sit down on my bed. I touched his forehead and was greatly relieved when I noticed that the temperature had gone down significantly.

"How long've I been out, taicho?" he asked me, and I sighed.

"I wish for you to call me Byakuya, Renji. And you have been drifting in and out of consciousness for four days."

"Four days? Holy fuck! I'll kill that ape!"

"No, I do not find that to be appropriate, Renji. Zabimaru and I made the agreement. You shall suffer no more from such petty jealousy as shown by it." He looked at me sceptically, and then looked around the room, a tattooed brow arched.

"Why am I in your bedroom tai- Byakuya?"

"I am not intending to let my lover sleep in some guest quarter in the other end of my house. Now, how are you feeling?" He stretched, I believe to feel if the healing wound was hurting.

"I'm ok."

He reached up a hand to remove his fiery red mane from his eyes, but I haltered it, and he looked questioningly at me. I buried my hand in that rich and soft mass, revelling it the feeling of it. I had slept next to him every night he had been in my home, but I had not dared to touch him. It felt somehow disrespectful to do such thing when he was in such vulnerable state. Without thinking, I pulled him close and kissed his soft and hot lips. He seemed a bit surprised at first, but then – to my great joy – answered it. And when I requested entrance to his mouth, he granted it without hesitation. As we were united that night, body and soul, I felt complete in a way I had never before experienced. To give myself to another man in such way never made me feel shameful in the least. To Renji I can give all of me, show all sides of me, and know that I am loved, respected and cherished. And as we lay close together, basking in the afterglow – I with my head on his chest and tracing the patterns with my fingers, and him holding me tight so I wouldn't get cold – he whispered to me the words I never realized meant so much to me to hear from him;

"I love you, Kuchiki Byakuya."

"I love you too, Abarai Renji."

We shared a soft kiss and he then pulled the covers over us both. After making sure I was warm and comfortable he drifted off to sleep. I remained awake a while longer – still very high on the feeling of his body inside mine. But eventually I fell asleep, my head still buried against his chest and my arm around his waist. He still held me close, even in his sleep, and I felt safe in a way I had never before experienced.

It has been ten years since that night. Our love grows stronger every day, and every night we fall asleep next to each other. He completes me in a way I never thought possible, and I now know what the feeling of utter bliss means. Our love making is full of fire and passion – and I seem to have developed a great appetite for it. He is like a drug to me. I sometimes have to draw every bit of self discipline I have out of me to stop myself from making him take me in the office or at the training grounds. Whatever I wish, he does for me. He is such a caring lover, and he seems sometimes the most happy when he has seen my face dissolve in utter orgasmic bliss. I am now fully marked, but Zabimaru had the decency to refrain from putting any marks on my face, neck or hands. But when I remove my clothes, I have the black markings on most of my body. They are not identical to Renji's own. Mine are softer in shape, more flowing and calligraphy like – but there is no mistaking who is responsible for them. Now we are truly bound to each other, and no force in the world can break us apart. And in moments like this, when I can study his stunning face and body in the glowing light of the dawn, I feel truly happy. I have him, and I cannot ever ask for more. He is my sun and moon, the air in my lungs and the beat of my heart. Abarai Renji is the man I love.

**End.**


End file.
